


offerings to aphrodite

by seaquestions



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Light-Hearted, Multi, Open Relationships, cityspeaking is a tough job, liege maximo is a short king, megatronus is more awkward than he appears, solus physically cant back down from a challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaquestions/pseuds/seaquestions
Summary: Ficlets about the ever-mysterious Liege Maximo.Or, well, about the people around him, rather.
Relationships: Liege Maximo/Megatronus, Liege Maximo/Megatronus/Solus Prime, Liege Maximo/Solus Prime
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. if the ocean's not enough, nor am i

**Author's Note:**

> ive been doing nothing about thinking about either liege maximo or impactor these past few days. my brain is mush.
> 
> also note that this isnt placed in any particular continuity, so. my city now.
> 
> oh also also, look at [these](https://twitter.com/seaquestions/status/1289301262077370368) [arts](https://twitter.com/seaquestions/status/1288708949739483136) i made of liege, megatronus n solus. its not for this fic but i gotta plug my shit right?

It's hard to keep one's head straight, like this.

Entropy may be his element, but affairs of the spark tend to elude Megatronus, chaotic or not. Even more so when it involves himself. But while it has become increasingly difficult for him to keep his hands off Liege Maximo's plating for reasons much deeper than he'd care to admit, pleasure is pleasure, he supposes.

Tangled in Maximo's bedsheets, the softness of the mesh and the body sprawled on top of his chest holds him down. Megatronus is a believer in early worms, but he hasn't moved at all. Maybe he's worn out from the night before. Maybe he's enamoured by the tiny movements of Maximo's horns, twitching in recharge. Maybe it's just warm and cozy, with the braziers lit.

Wait. The braziers are lit?

“Did you two have fun while I was away?”

A tall, tall figure enters through the doorway, stepping out of the shadows with steps far quieter than her weighty armour would suggest. Her face held a smirk.

Megatronus did not blush, but he feels a small rush of energon anyway.

“Ah, Solus—”

“Is he really all tuckered out?” she asks, gesturing to the smallest mech in the room, currently dozing on Megatronus' wide chest, “Hmm. Interesting.”

The ironworker then approaches the bed. It's hers, really. But hectic working hours kept her busy, often sleeping in a cot by her workplace, instead of here, in the suite specially designed for her and Maximo's conjunxing, as arranged by Prima.

Megatronus watches her cables sway. She stops and sits on the side of the bed, where Liege would have been if he wasn't lying on top of Megatronus, and looks down at them.

“My little nuisance can be a bit of a handful. Sometimes I wonder how I have the patience to deal with him,” Solus says, with a smile, “Sometimes it's not enough. He's so insufferable, I love him.” 

“I wonder that as well myself…” Megatronus mutters.

Solus barks a sharp laugh. “What do you mean?”

The burly mech stops and rethinks his words. “Hn, I meant, I also wonder how I've managed this far…”

Solus tilts her head, prompting him to elaborate.

This time, Megatronus does blush. “I feel like I should've gotten into trouble at some point. He does that, doesn't he?”

The ironworker laughs again, and looks fondly down at her sleeping husband. “He does. But you do know that you shouldn't worry, don't you? Prima might've forced Maximo and I to bond out of some bizarre need for peace and quiet or whatever, but if he loves you, then he loves you,” she smirks, “Prima won't stop him. If he does, then he'll have to stop me from visiting Onyx after their hunts. And you know how I am.”

Megatronus is quiet, contemplative. “Does he?” he asks, softly, “Love me, I mean.”

Solus' eyes widened for a second. “Hm? Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that the two of you haven't actually…”

Megatronus' nervous look said it all.

“Oh, come on. Really?” Solus asks, “What has happened to the Megatronus I knew? Aren't you the one who rushes into things?”

“I rush into battle, not relationships,” Megatronus grumbles, “What if I'm not enough?”

A voice pipes up. “Oh, why must the two of you be so loud?”

Liege Maximo yawns and stretches, still lying on top of Megatronus. His horns flick, up then back down.

“Solus, you just got back home from working on a project for 2 straight weeks,” he says, in a still-sleepy voice, “Lie down, won't you?” he pats the empty space on the bed.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, darling,” she says, and lies down next to the pair.

Megatronus blinks. Of _course_ Maximo had been awake this whole time. Of course.

“And you,” Liege says to him, “Go back to sleep.”

“Right,” Megatronus responds. What else was he going to say? The shift had been so abrupt.

“It's also far too bright in here.” Liege Maximo says, sending out a command to dim the lights, “Much better.”

And right before he settles back down to sleep, Maximo says, softly, but not without reproach, “And of course I love you. I thought you knew. My wife even told you that I did.”

Megatronus spends approximately 2 minutes blankly staring into the darkness before realising he should respond.

“I love you too.”

But Maximo had already fallen back into recharge.

In the silence of the room, Megatronus hears Solus snicker.

“Losers.”


	2. just what you’re about

Megatronus had been bewildered. “You mean you _didn’t_ tell Prima to shove off?”

Caminus had been concerned. [I don’t trust the little prime. And the eldest prime too, if this is what he thought of.]

Onyx had simply scoffed and raised their brow. “Are you over-committing to a bit again, Solus?”

And she had replied, with a tone of voice that was both defensive and defeated, “Maybe I am.”

The “bit” in question is, of course, her conjunxing ceremony to Liege Maximo, coming up soon.

Prima had been the one who arranged it. The old bastard wanted to “quell their animosity”, whatever that meant.

True, she and Maximo were constantly at each other's throats. But it was for fun, really. Solus was a solitary type, and so it wasn’t often that she clicked with someone. Liege was one of the few, but in a bit of an odd way. She had never felt the need to explain it to anyone, especially not Prima, but maybe she should have. She didn’t care _that_ much about Liege, certainly not enough to marry him.

Except, when the concept had been brought up, Liege Maximo had snorted and said, “Oh, sure,” in a way that somehow convinced her to go along and double down on it.

Maybe it was a joke, but Maximo didn’t back down either. A game of chicken had unraveled that day, in Prima’s “office”, and there was no way she was losing.

And thus, here she is now.

Prima’s temple, built on the metal above Emissary’s spark, was a beautifully designed masterclass of architecture. Large open arches let light in, illuminating the interior, where she stood at the altar, waiting. A delicate crystal chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, its multicoloured glow bringing out the edges of fluted columns supporting the arches, and of the detailed, ornate capitals topping them off. The floor was waxed to a mirror shine, and in it she could see the reflection of Prima’s impatient face.

Liege Maximo was fashionably late, again.

A melodic voice, bound to her processor, whispered, [Are you sure you’re not being made a fool of?] To which she replied, in her blunt fashion, “If he’s a no-show, that means I win.”

Just as Prima’s eye was about to twitch so hard it popped off, Liege sauntered in.

His emerald armour was polished to the point it looked like silk, and he seemed to have applied gold detailing all over to accentuate his features. His cape, a newly made one, she could tell, swayed as he approached them.

“Sorry I’m late, I was busy doing stuff,” he said.

Solus smiled at Prima’s sputtering. Maximo finally stopped at the altar, standing to her right.

Glancing down at the shorter mech, Solus would’ve scoffed at the extravagance, but she had to admit that Maximo looked good. He really pulled out all the stops, didn’t he? Goodness, what material was the cape made out of? Black and semi-translucent, it both hid his figure and didn’t at the same time. She wanted to touch it.

Before she could process it all, Prima had apparently finished his speech.

“—And now, you may open up your chest plates and bond your sparks together.” 

Wait. What. Oh.

Wait, how did this somehow manage to go over her head?

Judging by his own small hesitation, Liege Maximo seemed to also be caught a bit off balance. Uncharacteristic of him. Still, he turned to face her.

Over the link, she could feel Caminus smack a palm over his face. [Oh my stars, Vigilem just told me—I—how did neither of you think it this far?!]

Still, a promise was a promise, and she had gotten to this point, might as well continue. She sent a command to part her heavily armoured chest plates, revealing her spark, and Liege Maximo did as well.

Realising the significant height difference between them, she bent down just as Maximo rose up on the tip of his feet, something she found a little charming for some reason. And when their sparks collided, she could feel the mech’s slight indignation— _tsk, should’ve worn heels, next time, next time_ —and laughed into the merge.

Sparks don’t lie, they don’t play, and they don’t hide. A feeling of being wholly unzipped washed over her, looped into Maximo, and she couldn’t tell where it began and ended. Their individual passion, the drive that held them each together, wove through their sparks and joined forces, latching on and becoming something brighter. It was dizzying, the way Liege’s mind worked, so different from her own; an array of loose golden pearls to her blunt hammer and anvil. By the time the bond took hold and they could stop, she found herself not wanting to let go, instead wanting to examine it all, to touch and study and _understand_.

It was at that point that she felt Maximo’s hand tapping at her shoulder, and she did let go. He closed his chest plates quickly, but through the bond she felt a complex mixture of vulnerability, desire, and frustration. If Maximo could blush, he would have.

Scooping him up in her arms, Solus smiled and carried him off outside, despite Prima’s protests that there was still more to the ceremony.

Oh, who cares about him? She just won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next time liege maximo gets married, he Does wear heels, specifically made for him by his wife (solus) so he can smooch his husband (megatronus) without the indignity of being a manlet.


	3. in the ether

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place in my 13 cityspeakers au, where windblade is from kaon & is the speaker for vigilem.

Windblade has had enough of this guy.

She was busy enough, juggling tasks to try and keep the city together while her metrotitan faded in and out of consciousness. Kaon was rapidly becoming more of a mess, as Vigilem’s systems kept blinking on and off, causing massive blackouts in various parts of the city. She didn’t need some weird green goat ghost following her around on top of it all.

The spectral beastformer wouldn’t stop pestering her with cryptic messages about—of all things—love. 

At some point, between digging through archives to try and find out what happened and reassuring the district representatives that she was on the case, the cityspeaker had snapped and asked the ghost what his deal was.

The city around her went white, and her vision faded out then back in. 

She was in a field. Tall grass danced as wind blew, and she could see, in the distance, beasts roaming around peacefully.

“Where… am I?” she asked.

The ghost stood in front of her and answered. “You are in the Forgotten Plains. You still are. Kaon has changed a lot since I was alive.”

She looked up at the sky. It was so clear and so full of stars that she nearly scoffed and said that the ghost was lying. But the moons were in the same exact spot that they were just before she got here.

She directed her gaze back at the beastformer.

“You know I’m busy right?”

The ghost jolted, as if he was surprised. “I… thought you were going to ask me who I am.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care? If you’re here to help me, I’d really like some assistance, but if you’re not, then please don’t make it harder for me to do my job.”

The ghost cleared its throat (why?) and, after getting over himself, proceeded to give her some actual advice. “The answers you’re looking for aren’t here. They’re in Tarn.”

Windblade blinked. “Tarn?”

“Yes, the neighbouring city-state. They’re going through a somewhat similar titan problem, don’t you know? Tempo’s woken up.”

The cityspeaker searched through her memories. “Tempo, Tempo… Oh! That’s—That’s Vigilem’s conjunx! They’re awake?! Why didn’t you just _tell_ me that!”

“It’s not my fault you don’t watch international news more often.”

“Sweet Solus, I gotta go! Get me out of these Plains!”

The ghost sighed. “Alright, alright.”

As she transformed into her alt and as the vision of the Old Cybertron That Once Was started fading away, the spectral goat called out to her.

“Oh, and if you meet someone named Nightbird, you should give her your comm number by the end of the day!”


End file.
